


Is That Alright?

by orphan_account



Series: Tell Me How To Feel. [3]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Caring, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Flowers, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Husbands, I think they're soulmates, Insecurity, Kim Hongjoong is Whipped, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage, Park Seonghwa is Whipped, Protectiveness, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Soulmates, Tags Are Hard, Understanding, can you believe how soft this whole thing is, i just think that. cute, oh my god okay this is just fluff, very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He can’t help but think that the reason why they stuck together, why they always chose each other from the very start, was because they were just meant to be. In this lifetime and the next one too. Always Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Always their souls interwoven. Always their futures formed and forged by the way they walk together on an endless road. Because in all the dirty recesses and the parts other people would shy away from, they’re melding together there too. Surely Hongjoong will hold his hand out to Seonghwa in their next life too. And for all the saving that everyone thinks Hongjoong’s done— Hongjoong will know.Seonghwa’s existence will be the one to bless him in his next life too.(OR: The epilogue to ‘Million Reasons’)
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Series: Tell Me How To Feel. [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700110
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	Is That Alright?

**Author's Note:**

> WOW OKAY..... HELLO....
> 
> this is the first thing i've actually COMPLETED since starting therapy because it was very. idk i think i kind of went through this mini eye-opener thing, which is odd for me bcs idk im not an "eye opener" type of person, but it helped me a lot. i feel more human?? idk man i can't DESCRIBE but basically, this is me channeling all of the positive emotions i have in me and trying to produce something more productive, and a little more light-hearted. i also felt it was well deserved because i've always written a lot of angsty shit (not to say there isn't a little bit of emoness in this cause that's lowkey how i roll) and i think it was time to gift myself something that was healing to write and to read. this is also the first series i've ever finished :(((( im kind of emo abt that but yk what? my seongjoong in this au deserve their closure and ending credits. i didn't want to leave them out in the cold with the reader left to just ASSUME they got their shit tgt and lived "Happily Ever After". i wanted smth more real than that, which is what this is. tangible evidence that we've made it and we're growing.
> 
> okay sorry for this long ass poorly written lapslock authors note but if you read this i love you with my everything. please take care of yourselves the way im trying to take care of myself too :)
> 
> (and once again, this fic's title is taken from a lady gaga song LMAO TTuTT please check out "Is That Alright?" off of the 'a star is born' soundtrack ^^)
> 
> (ALSO this should go without saying, but I highly suggest reading the other two works in this series before reading this one!! That way it makes more sense :) but I think it’s fine enough to be a stand alone,,, just some of it might not hit as hard or make asm sense w/o the other two parts. Anyways enjoy!)
> 
> \- love you always, nana

_“I want you_

_At the end of my life_

_...Is that alright?”_

Hongjoong didn’t think he’d love Seonghwa this hard. 

Maybe a part of him knew, before they’d even talked the first time, that he would love him. Maybe whatever shielded and hidden aspect of him that has never tried so hard to love anyone, was willing to try for Seonghwa the moment he saw him on that balcony.

Maybe none of it mattered, if Seonghwa was there. Maybe that was all that could possibly matter. 

But of all the ‘maybe’s Hongjoong let swim so deep into his subconscious that they were almost crowding his vision, Seonghwa was a certainty.

And Hongjoong was just as sure that he’d want Seonghwa to be a certainty for as long as he possibly could. 

  
  


“ _Bring me light_ , the bird cooed,” Seonghwa reads softly, a static-like noise filtering through the otherwise blanket of sound the rain was bringing. Outside, although the skies roared and the clouds shook with their sobs, Hongjoong could hear little beyond a steady hum of nature and time passing with indifference. Not much of it could maintain his attention, not when Seonghwa was reading so delicately. 

“So the boy leapt from his place on the floor and with resilience, he ran towards the sun. Though it burned him, emptied his irises, he kept forward. He ran and ran and-”

Seonghwa glances up at Hongjoong, watching his eyes flutter rhythmically to the beat of the world around him. The world that was limited to Seonghwa’s voice and their bedsheets and the window that displayed the same scenery tinted gray. Hongjoong’s world.

Hongjoong’s small, lovely world.

“Maybe I should stop here, so that you can rest, hm?” Seonghwa mutters, bending down in their garden of sheets so that he can press a light kiss to Hongjoong’s hair. The other shakes his head, trying to respond back to him to keep going, but he can’t help but let the words get caught in his throat.

He can’t think of much else beyond the world around him and in its comfort, he keeps drifting far off. His mind stays on the scene around him, not thinking of it or analyzing it, but purely existing in its moment. He thinks of Seonghwa, every few minutes, but it’s just that- just the small, sudden flash of Seonghwa. Of his name, of his face, of his voice. Hongjoong gets swept up in the way it brings him warmth just to think of his lover.

“I’ll read you off into dreamland,” Seonghwa snickers, “but don’t be upset later when you have no idea what’s happening in the story.”

Hongjoong doesn’t have the capacity to respond to Seonghwa with real intelligible words, but he does respond with a soft hum and it’s satisfying enough.

“He ran and he ran and he ran, and though there was no end in sight, the boy kept pushing onward. He knew that despite the challenge in his path, there would have to come an end…”

>>>>

“I have to think you love him, if anything you say or do is to go by.” 

Hongjoong liked Yeosang’s nature the moment he met him. They got along that way, with Seonghwa sitting in the middle of them and rolling his eyes every few minutes. Both of them got along too well, truthfully. The bluntness they shared, and the way they moved forward with open and honest hearts, was something they could connect over. Though Hongjoong was forgiving and lenient in all the ways Yeosang was strict, their core values of being humble human beings who lived respectable lives kept them in tandem with one another. In a way, Hongjoong saw Yeosang like a brother he never had.

And back then, when Seonghwa was still caught up in running away from everything, he had needed a brother.

“I do, we both know it.” Hongjoong says back, proud. Yeosang doesn’t say it to tease, or to unearth, but rather just to observe. Whether obvious or hidden under cushions of false context, Yeosang tends to point things out like that. It’s almost like he gets a kick out of observing, every now and then.

“Will you act on the urge I know you have?” Yeosang brushes a platinum lock behind his ear, fingers catching gently on the shell and resting there. The pose makes him look almost bashful; reserved. Hongjoong knows that when they talk to one another, they are anything but. 

“It’s too soon to say, I guess. It took a lot to get us here and I know I can wait longer. I’m not holding out for anything anymore. I don’t have to be scared he’ll leave.” 

And it’s true. The Seonghwa whom Hongjoong fell in love with is very much his now, without hesitation and unspoken fears sitting between the small space it’d take for them to connect their skin. When he looks at Seonghwa now, as awkward and long as it can take, Seonghwa shows him what’s underneath his skin. And he shows Hongjoong without being prompted to.

There are times, even, where Seonghwa comes to him first with his heart wide open.

“I can tell you want to though,” Yeosang says softly. “And you seem to be a lot more impatient now than you were before.”

When he started gaining confidence, Hongjoong also started gaining restlessness. Not the kind that is stirred up by a fear of staying still, but the kind that a comforted and reassured heart feels. Because Hongjoong now knows he can _have,_ it makes him _want._

He’s always been quietly greedy, and became even more so when Seonghwa started to give into him so easily. 

“I want to, maybe? But it’s just…” _I don’t want to scare him off_ , he doesn’t say.

Yeosang smiles at him knowingly. “I’m sure deep down, he wants it just as much as you. It’s been a long time coming, Hongjoong. This step would be the most logical one, and it’s not rushing or pushing it. Don’t overthink on this one, okay? You left all that overthinking to the old you.”

Hongjoong only gives Yeosang a blinding smile in response.

>>>>

“Joong, dear,” Seonghwa calls from the kitchen. He’s making something- something Hongjoong knows the scent of, but won’t be able to name until he’s putting it on his tongue. He knows Hongjoong has an embarrassing tendency to forget small things; to lose details and elements of scenes almost as soon as they’re done. He’s grown a direct attachment to photographs because of it.

_You’re going to be an old man who can barely even remember his own name_ , Seonghwa likes to tease him. And Hongjoong always shows him a sad pout and his starry eyes sparkle in something akin to shame, like he’s humiliated by it, and Seonghwa reminds himself not to be so mean. He’ll always kiss him then, and he’ll smile into it as he pulls away. And he’ll murmur, _It’s alright, I’ll remember everything for you._

“Yes?” Hongjoong calls back from the living room, socked feet padding against their shared floor. Now Hongjoong is a call into the void of their apartment away. Now Seonghwa doesn’t have to craft texts or assume that Hongjoong is free before he calls him.

It makes it easier for him. Hiding becomes less of a choice when he’s in front of Hongjoong, and he can twitch or fidget just enough for Hongjoong to see what he’s trying to say. Because in that sense, it’s not that Hongjoong can read him like an open book, it’s that Hongjoong _understands_ him.

And in return, he takes all the time in the world to learn every little thing about Hongjoong. Not because he feels he needs to know- like it’ll be to his advantage- but just because he wants to.

“Dinner is almost ready; come have a taste.”

Hongjoong pops his head in, rounding the counter and staring with curious eyes as Seonghwa lifts a spoonful of soup into his mouth. And Hongjoong smiles at the careful movement, at the way Seonghwa blows on it to make sure it doesn’t burn, before he’s slowly slipping it between Hongjoong’s cherry lips. 

And Hongjoong smiles at him, taps a finger against his chin and scrunches his brows before hesitantly saying “beef stew?”

Seonghwa laughs. He always makes beef stew on Sundays, and Hongjoong never remembers.

But it’s okay, because after dinner is over and they’re slipping into bed, Hongjoong will always gently flip Seonghwa’s pillow over before he lays down.

“So that it can be colder; it helps you sleep better,” Hongjoong drawls. Seonghwa smiles at him in the dark, tucking Hongjoong’s face in between the crook of his neck and the bed.

“So the sunshine doesn’t hit you when it rises,” Seonghwa whispers back. He feels the soft smile in his neck and he’s _grateful, grateful, grateful,_ that he wanted to be better for Hongjoong. He’s always thankful that Hongjoong put up with him long enough for these days to come.

Hongjoong doesn’t have to remember what days of the week Seonghwa cooks, so long as Seonghwa knows Hongjoong remembers he loves him. 

>>>>

There are times where Hongjoong can see the old Seonghwa peeking through, still a part of the new one but not entirely the majority. Seonghwa’s grown accustomed to keeping the mask off at home, and around Hongjoong, but he can tell when he’s alone that the elder doesn’t know how to assimilate with the world around him in a way that isn’t practiced.

It makes Hongjoong ache inside, most of the time. Because now Seonghwa isn’t this manipulative, hidden danger. He’s more like a caged animal; prodded and poked and expected to act right instead of going feral just because he was trained to. Just because the expectations were supposed to outweigh his nature. Because instincts paled in comparison to assumptions. And Hongjoong wasn’t blind. He could see the things people assumed about Seonghwa based on how they talked to him, how they looked at him, sometimes how they even turned in his direction. It was almost revolting, the way he could almost feel the judgment in the air. It was like Seonghwa was just for their entertainment; children at a zoo yelling at the animal to do something, _anything_ , that they could find interesting.

“Seonghwa,” a girl called to him, “what happened to your bad boy persona? The boyfriend made you go all soft.”

“It’s kind of cute,” another girl laughed. “Heartbreaker playboy turned loyal puppy? I’d love to watch that drama.”

Seonghwa doesn’t say much to the two of them, only laughs quietly and shifts in his seat. Hongjoong watches with caution, posture taut because he’s ready— if anyone were to step out of line, he’d step in. It’s not that Seonghwa needs protecting, Hongjoong knows, but he can’t help himself. Seonghwa was like a newborn deer in most public conversations; even more so when he was in front of people who sneered at him behind sparkling eyes. 

Seonghwa clears his throat, eyes darting and then darkening. Hongjoong can almost tell the visible shift. He sighs, knowing that this— this shift, in his demeanor, this old ghost of the Seonghwa Hongjoong had to fight just to get him to open up— it’s to protect himself. It’s to shy away from pain.

“It’s a bold statement to say Hongjoong is what turned me loyal,” he says sultrily. “Or that I can’t break hearts even while in a relationship, hm?”

And Hongjoong knows just as well as the appearance that Seonghwa is talking shit. He watches the girls’ eyes widen and how their cheeks redden, latching onto implications they’ll deepen on their own in the way Seonghwa is used to. Because even if Hongjoong could see through it and understand it, most other people couldn’t decipher heads from tails. 

“Well…” one of the girls starts, and Seonghwa’s eyes shift back the moment they catch onto Hongjoong’s. There’s a mixture of humiliation and guilt in his gaze, blanketed entirely in regret for what he just did. But Hongjoong understands, so he comes to his side and he drapes himself over the taller, eyeing the girls with a mock curiosity like he was completely oblivious to all that transpired. 

The girls don’t meet his gaze, and a fire grows in the pit of his stomach. These people don’t know— maybe even to a point, Seonghwa doesn’t even know— but Hongjoong is greedy. 

He kisses Seonghwa gently on the cheek, offering the girls a smile when they both squirm in their seats. Seonghwa, as Hongjoong can tell from his peripheral vision, is smiling wide too.

>>>>

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong calls out, voice crackly over the line as he’s placed on speaker. “I’m on my way home, it’s pouring out!”

“I told you to take an umbrella,” Seonghwa says disapprovingly, humming indifferently to the litany of whines that follow on the other end of the line. Hongjoong says something about being cold and soaking in the same breath, though the words get lost to a long and high pitched whine followed by the sound of a splash. “ _God_ , these puddles are ruining my pants.”

“Among other things,” Seonghwa snorts. “Get home quickly, I’ll run a warm bath for you.”

“I’m _hurrying_ ,” Hongjoong huffs. “Not like I can walk much faster in this god forsaken weather without falling on my ass. Then my pants will really be ruined.”

“Yes, yes,” Seonghwa placates, “I understand, just focus on getting home and you can tell me all about how much it sucks not listening to your boyfriend when you get here.”

Hongjoong groans, but he responds with a quick ‘love you’ that Seonghwa returns before the call is ended. 

Seonghwa runs the water with a careful palm below the faucet, feeling the temperature with each cascade to ensure it’s not too hot. He gets lost, while he watches the tub fill, in his memories of Hongjoong.

The way Hongjoong had always looked at him, smiled at him, let him complain his ass off and said nothing despite the way Seonghwa would turn red at the end once he realized how open he was being. And when he tried to apologize— the way Hongjoong shook his head with a gentle curl of his lips and told Seonghwa he was happy to listen. That he would always listen.

It makes Seonghwa smile, as he finishes filling the tub and checks the plug twice over. The front door opens and he goes to Hongjoong like a moth to a flame. He listens to him whine as he undoes his laces, pulls off his jacket, peels away layer for layer until he’s rushing to the bathroom completely naked and letting himself sink into the tub’s warm water. Seonghwa watches it all quietly. 

“Why are you being so silent?” Hongjoong asks him halfway through his hair being washed. Seonghwa had offered to help him bathe (although Hongjoong had argued that he definitely did _not_ need it, he gave in anyways) and was taking his time with it, letting Hongjoong tell him about his day as the minutes drudged on in a peaceful atmosphere.

“I just wanted to listen to you,” Seonghwa replies easily. He feels the way Hongjoong tense underneath him and something in his chest seizes, suddenly afraid. Thoughts swarm quicker than he’d like of Hongjoong not believing him, or the words making the other uncomfortable because he was never one for sappy displays, and he spirals in the lull of the conversation before he sees Hongjoong turn to him, fully body twist causing the water to slosh back and forth.

“I want to listen to you too,” Hongjoong whispers back genuinely. “But is there something on your mind?”

“You always listen to me,” Seonghwa laughs. “You listen to me so much. And you don’t- you don’t make me feel dumb for it afterwards no matter how scared I get myself.”

“That’s because there’s nothing to make you feel dumb for.” Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrow and Seonghwa can see the way the gears are turning in his head, his lips jutting out before he sucks in a breath and his eyebrows loosen. Seonghwa can tell Hongjoong’s gathered a thought and met the conclusion almost immediately, based off of his facial expressions alone.

He hopes people know that he’s just as in tune to Hongjoong’s little quirks the way Hongjoong is to his. He hopes he can read Hongjoong just as quickly, that to him, he’s just as special— that he’s just as good.

_Oh, so that’s what this all is._

“You’re doing more than enough, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong lifts a bubble-covered hand out of the water, ghosting by Seonghwa’s cheek but not touching it to avoid covering it in the suds. “You listen to me just as much. And you always do and show just as much of your love for me as I do for you. Don’t doubt yourself. If you think that maybe you don’t show it as much— or that you’re not doing a good job when you do show it, remind yourself we’re two very different people. I don’t compare you to me in this relationship, and you shouldn’t do that either, okay?”

Seonghwa stares at him, silent because he wants to form a deflection— something to shield himself, or deny Hongjoong’s words— but that was the old Seonghwa.

Instead, he nods quietly, leaning into Hongjoong’s hand despite the way he shivers slightly at the soft bubbles now latching onto his skin. He ignores it in favor of nuzzling into Hongjoong’s natural warmth. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I just can’t help myself sometimes. You’re always so good to me and sometimes I doubt whether or not I’ve completely been able to change for the better. I’ve never been good at listening to others sincerely. It was always to get something out of it; and now that I’m finally doing it for real...I can’t help but wonder if it’s sincere enough.”

“You’re always going to have that ghost in you, Hwa,” Hongjoong sighs, rubbing circles into Seonghwa’s cheek and watching the suds gently spread. “But that’s not your fault. It’s because of the way you were. You’re always going to compare yourself to the old you, and to the person you want to be— everyone does that. But the past and the future can’t hold you back, Hwa. You’re just you, here in the present. And I’m telling you that whatever you’ve done, and whatever you think you could do better in the future— those things don’t make me love you any less or see you any differently. You’re more than enough for me, Seonghwa. And I’ll do everything I can to make you realize you can be enough for yourself, too.”

“And what about you?” Seonghwa asks him, still slightly doubtful. “What can I do for you?”

Hongjoong laughs, pulling back and looking at the water sitting around him. 

“I’d say you’re already doing a lot more for me than you know.”

>>>>

It’s not until he’s staring at rings with Seonghwa that Hongjoong realizes just how deep— how much, how extreme, how strong— his love runs for the other man. When Seonghwa looks back up at him and a thought crosses through their gaze for only a millisecond, like a jolt of electricity they both feel, Hongjoong suddenly knows. And he was foolish, truthfully, to think any differently. To think that there was ever a point where he thought he’d never love someone this intensely, that his bond with Seonghwa wouldn’t transcend most other things in his life— it was silly now. Because Seonghwa looked at Hongjoong with so much quiet, raging embers of affection in his eyes. And Hongjoong touched Seonghwa like he was the world’s last priceless jewel. Because there was no question to what they had, and what they were to one another— there was no doubt, even in between themselves when they looked in the mirror— that could overpower exactly what their shared moment of time meant. 

“When do you suppose it’ll be our time?” Seonghwa asks, as they pass by the jewelry store to go to another for some clothing Hongjoong likes. He walks casually, like the question isn’t loaded, but the overly tight grip he has on several bags from different stores makes Hongjoong smile. There are times when Hongjoong can tell that Seonghwa’s not trying to play it cool just for the sake of looking it— but because he’s shy. At the core of it, even when he’s shutting himself out, it’s not because he doesn’t trust Hongjoong anymore. It’s because he’s still new to everything, to feeling so much, and he’s shaky and unsure in his moves. It’s nothing short of endearing.

Hongjoong shows his surge of affection by grabbing Seonghwa’s hand, trying to untwist it from its deathly latch so he can intertwine their fingers as much as possible without causing him to drop any of his bags. 

“Depends. When do you want it to be?” Hongjoong asks back with a cheeky grin, relishing the way Seonghwa looks at him with slowly tinting cheeks and puckered lips as he sent the elder boy into a vivid flurry of thoughts. Instead of saying anything more, Hongjoong tugged on their conjoined hands and didn’t stop walking ahead until they were at the store he’d wanted to visit. 

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says softly. “Are you serious?”

_“When will you act on that urge I know you have?”_

“Very,” Hongjoong smiles at him. “I’m not joking, Seonghwa. I think maybe...maybe it could be something good for us. Something that’ll really reflect our love in a way that’s more true to who we are to one another.”

It’s funny, the way their eyes are sparkling and glossing over in the middle of a few clothing racks. People around them move carefully so as to not disturb them, and Seonghwa swears he can see a worker on the side who’s smiling too big to not have been listening in.

“You want to be my husband, Hongjoong?” The words are said with both disbelief and cheekiness, Seonghwa’s smile growing as Hongjoong nods at him excitedly. It takes everything in the both of them to not break out into sobs right there in the aisle, but a few tears do leak out as Seonghwa pulls Hongjoong into a crushing hug. Their bags be damned, as they poke Hongjoong on his sides from where Seonghwa wrapped his arms around his waist. 

“I’d like to be yours forever,” Seonghwa whispers into the shell of his ear. 

“I was already yours forever from the very start,” Hongjoong whispers back, giggling. “But I’m glad I’ll be able to show it more clearly from now on.”

Seonghwa laughs, squeezing gently before loosening his grip enough for Hongjoong’s head to move out of the crook of his neck. His wild platinum hair covers the majority of his eyes and yet Seonghwa still finds him stunning— his beautiful, diamond-hearted starboy. 

“Greedy, are we?” He teases, just to watch Hongjoong smile bigger, eyes shine brighter. He loves seeing happiness on the other’s face— loves to know he’s put that there. All the power in the world that Seonghwa’s ever held pales in comparison to the knowledge that he can affect Hongjoong’s mood in a positive way. 

“Always,” Hongjoong sticks his tongue at him, before retracting it and smiling all over. Seonghwa hums, brushing some of the locks to reveal his starlit eyes.

“Me too,” Seonghwa admits. “But for you.”

_“Cheesy!”_ Hongjoong pulls away from him, laughing, before dragging him through the store with too much bounce in his step and a smile too splitting on his face. They shop like that— with giggles and feathery touches and sneaking kisses— for the rest of the time. 

“Thank you,” Hongjoong whispers to him seriously when they’re waiting in line to check out.

“For what?” Seonghwa answers him back, just as quiet and face just as straight. 

“For opening up to me. Back then I never thought a time like this would come for us. Domestic bliss, I think they always call it? I never thought I’d have such...softened moments with you. I didn’t think I’d be blessed enough to get to experience your untainted happiness.”

“It’s because of you, that I even learned how to show happiness.” Seonghwa admits. “So thank you.”

“For bringing out the happiness in you?” 

“For showing me that I can even be happy. For helping me to change.” Seonghwa threads their fingers together once more, a blush creeping up his neck and tempting him to snap his mouth shut. He pushes the urge down.

He left the ignoring, the indifference and the deflecting— he left the self-hatred to the old Seonghwa.

“Thank you for loving me...and for waiting so that I could learn slowly and steadily, how to love you too. How to love the right way.”

Hongjoong rests his head on Seonghwa’s shoulder as they move up a couple of spaces, a silence enveloping them until they’re almost at the front of the line. Hongjoong lifts his head then— only then— and gives Seonghwa the most genuine smile he can muster.

“I’d do it over a million times, if it meant in the end I could see you this happy.”

Seonghwa can’t really explain to the cashier why he’s got misty eyes and is sniffling so hard, but he thinks that the smile on his face and the way he clings to Hongjoong suffices enough. She only smiles at them sympathetically, like she’s got it all figured out. 

And when he’s with Hongjoong, Seonghwa almost wears his heart on his sleeve— so maybe, maybe she does have it all figured out. And maybe Seonghwa isn’t afraid of that. Not anymore.

>>>>

“Hongjoong,” he calls into the silence of their bedroom. The clock blazes in his irises, blinking a time well in the AM’s but nowhere near enough the proper time to get up. The sun sits awkwardly below the horizon, unable to be coaxed out of its slumber- but even the stars are growing tired. It’s a time like that— blessed by neither the embers of the sun or or the glaze of the moon— that Seonghwa’s demons creep up on him again.

“What’s the matter?” Hongjoong asks easily, turning into Seonghwa further until he’s rubbing his skin into the sharper edges of Seonghwa’s joints and bones. Tender, unmarked porcelain skin gently caresses Seonghwa’s thrumming muscles, and a hunger in him rises. To take Hongjoong in his entirety, to consume him whole and dominate him just to feel some type of strong— the urge rises up in his throat like bile and he’s scared. He doesn’t want to hurt Hongjoong just because it’s nearly a bodily habit to destroy so that he can defend himself. He doesn’t want to let the old him overpower who he’s been working to become.

So he doesn’t say anything. He tucks his face into the crook of Hongjoong’s exposed neck and in favor of the bites he so deeply wants to leave, he presses soft butterfly kisses. His breath becomes shaky and hard to maintain; his hands fondle and tickle Hongjoong’s bare back. He doesn’t say anything but Hongjoong must know, because he bears himself more and hugs Seonghwa tighter.

“That’s not you,” he says softly. “Trust yourself like I trust you. That’s not you anymore.”

“I’m so scared that these thoughts will never leave me,” Seonghwa says, choking on a sob he refuses to let out. “Why do I always feel so scared? Haven’t I overcome it all? Haven’t I done _enough_ to kill the old me?”

“You did, Seonghwa. You did.” Hongjoong pulls his face out of his neck, forcing space between them so he can look into Seonghwa’s lost gaze. When he looks at him— when Seonghwa feels seen under Hongjoong’s protective gaze, that’s when his breathing starts to slow into a more recognizable pattern. Hongjoong stays with him in silence until he has all the control again, wrestling his demons for the control he knows that he deserves. Slowly, one by one, the questions that assault him about being deserving, about being wanted, about being enough after all that he’s done in the past— they leave his head. In their place sits only the freshened image of Hongjoong in all his beautiful and vulnerable glory. Seonghwa has to remind himself that he is trusted, that he is safer now.

He doesn’t want to hurt Hongjoong, and as long as he reminds himself he has the power, then he won’t.

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says, almost sheepishly. “I guess I’d forgotten any progress I made in favor of all the things I left in the past.” 

“That’s okay,” Hongjoong smiles at him softly. “I understand; you don’t have to apologize. Just tell me when it’s overwhelming okay? You’re doing so much better than you did before.”

And it’s true that he has made so much progress. Seonghwa can show it now, those fears and those ugly thoughts. He can open his heart instead of backing away from Hongjoong. That in of itself was something he had been so sure he was incapable of, long ago. 

“I love you,” Seonghwa tells him when his voice is fully steady. “I love you so much, you’ve no idea.”

“I’ve got a clue,” Hongjoong replies easily. “But maybe you’d like to show me?”

His cheekiness warrants a full body take-down, with Seonghwa on top of him and caging him in. There’s kisses between giggles and moans and so much more when it escalates— but not once does Seonghwa hurt him. 

Instead of consuming, they melt together. Like one coherent being; like what they always are. Just Seonghwa and Hongjoong.

>>>>

The wedding planning starts abruptly in the fall, a little before Hongjoong’s birthday.

It’s so awkwardly placed in between moments of them playing games and eating food— but it feels right for them. They’re little questions and sentences shared when they’re doing nothing in particular or in a rush to catch up with the life they’re living, and it works. As unconventional as they’ve always been, the entirety of the wedding’s details are figured out and organized by the following Spring.

All that’s left is to tell everyone else. 

“We could always elope and tell nobody,” Seonghwa had commented offhandedly. “You don’t seem fond of a big wedding anyways.”

“Well, we should at least tell them.” Hongjoong taps his foot rapidly against the wooden flooring, the flowers before them reaching his senses in all forms as it swarms them. Seonghwa had been insistent on picking the bouquet arrangements despite neither of them being a bride— something about the traditional significance of at least throwing some petals after they were bonded by law. They’d planned a small wedding under a family friend of Hongjoong’s who was a priest— a man a little older than them that they always called Eden among his parents and cousins. He’d agreed to it easily when Hongjoong had mentioned it briefly over the phone and, as they say, the rest was history. 

“This marriage is a bond between you and me,” Seonghwa says softly. “No one else has to play a part in that.”

“Why weren’t you this calm _before_ I started worrying?” Hongjoong huffs.

“‘I’m like a tailored suit; adjust to fit.” Seonghwa snorts, before his face turns serious and he puts the flowers he crafted together down on a table beside them for the florist to wrap up. “Are you seriously worried about telling the others?”

“I’m not worried I just— the prospect of everyone wanting to come is a little overwhelming. You can’t tell me you like the idea either. The more people, the more you lock yourself up. I don’t want to see you scamper behind a mask on our wedding day.”

“Scamper behind a mask? Hold on now.” Seonghwa gives him a stern, harsh gaze. “Think of what you’re saying before you say something like that.”

“Well it’s true,” Hongjoong says quickly. He suddenly feels... _defensive._ It’s so out of character for him to bristle.

‘Hongjoong, I know that I do that. I do.” Seonghwa’s eyes turn soft, saddened. But he doesn’t refute or fight back. He doesn’t bristle like he used to, and Hongjoong feels something pierce him deeply when he sees how far along Seonghwa has come. “I’m still trying to be better. I’m sorry it’s not perfect yet.”

The fire in Hongjoong drops down to a simmer, though it leaves him sick to the stomach to see the pain in Seonghwa’s eyes. He knows he’s fragile about that, and yet he brought it up.

“No, I shouldn’t have said that like it’s something that bothers me. It doesn’t.” Hongjoong shakes his head, coming closer to Seonghwa to rest his head on his shoulder. “That was ugly of me to say, and I’m sorry I said it. I know you confide in me because you trust that I won’t hurt you, and what I said just breached that.”

Seonghwa smiles down at him before resting his head atop Hongjoong’s. “It doesn’t make me trust you any less. You forget how good I used to be at talking shit. Still can be, from time to time. Sometimes you hurt others because you’re too scared to be vulnerable or seem weak. I understand.”

“We’re still learning so much all the time, aren’t we?” Hongjoong muses out loud. “Makes me wonder if we’ll ever know all that we need to know.”

“Someone very beautiful showed me that as long as you love and are loved in return, you at least know enough.” Seonghwa assures him, a hand at the small of his back as the florist returns with an intricate and finely decorated bouquet for them. Seonghwa grabs it gently with his free hand, long fingers curling around the wrapping and twine with so much care so as to not hurt it. And Hongjoong thinks that _yeah, maybe we don’t know everything and never will, but we do our best to take care of each other._

“What’s the bouquet made of, by the way?”

“Well, starboy, it’s quite the combination,” Seonghwa teases. “But it’s lilies, daffodils, hydrangeas, and asters.” 

“It’s colorful,” Hongjoong responds absentmindedly, too busy staring at the way Seonghwa’s fingers are soft with it. Soft in the way he’s learned over the years. Soft in the way he learned just so that he could hold Hongjoong like that. Soft in the way Hongjoong has come to love and adore. Soft like Seonghwa has always been, underneath his fears and insecurities.

Soft in the way he is now; so openly.

“I love you,” Hongjoong mutters into his shoulder. “So much.”

Seonghwa laughs, a hand playing with some of the strands on Hongjoong’s head easily. “And I, you. All the time.”

They go home with gentle fingers intertwined, caressing and holding each other’s skin. Hongjoong presses kisses and words and all of the thoughts swarming in his head into Seonghwa’s body— his hair and lips covered in all of the things Hongjoong’s been wanting to say. Like vows before they’re said; the vows he’ll make soon enough. Because they are learning and growing, and everyone always thinks— Seonghwa always thinks that Hongjoong is the one who is doing all the caring and waiting. That Hongjoong is the one exuding the patience and the love, the understanding that goes deeper than even their spirits could. But it’s always been Seonghwa. Seonghwa wanting to grow, Seonghwa wanting to be better, Seonghwa working and working and _working_ because he’s the one who wants to return it all and so much more. And Hongjoong feels loved, under his touch and his gaze. Hongjoong feels so loved that even words are awful at expressing it, even touches burn too much sometimes to express it. Even Hongjoong, for all his understanding and his endless calming words that bring Seonghwa back down to earth when he’s floating into thunderous clouds— even he can’t fully understand the depth of his love and how much it runs in his blood. He can’t help but think that the reason why they stuck together, why they always chose each other from the very start, was because they were just meant to be. In this lifetime and the next one too. Always Seonghwa and Hongjoong. Always their souls interwoven. Always their futures formed and forged by the way they walk together on an endless road. Because in all the dirty recesses and the parts other people would shy away from, they’re melding together there too. Surely Hongjoong will hold his hand out to Seonghwa in their next life too. And for all the saving that everyone thinks Hongjoong’s done— Hongjoong will know. 

Seonghwa’s existence will be the one to bless him in his next life too.

>>>>

“Why these flowers?” Hongjoong finally decides to ask at the altar. After Eden had them say their vows and they'd kissed for too long that even the third male was chuckling behind his sleeves, he’d finally come back to earth long enough to stare at the petals scattered on the floor. 

“Mm, caught on to the fact that they’re symbolic, finally?” Seonghwa pokes his husband on the cheek, watching the other pout at him with unimpressed eyes. It’s part of Hongjoong that Seonghwa loves. One part of many that made him his husband.

“I’m not much for symbolism. That’s always been more your game,” Hongjoong shrugs.

“Intricate way to say I was the one who couldn’t say the truth to save my life.”

“Not what I meant,” Hongjoong huffs, “and don’t even try to say it was.”

“I know,” Seonghwa smiles at him and presses a kiss to his temple. “I’m well aware sweetheart. I was only joking.”

“The flowers?”

“Asters, because you’re my starboy. They’re the closest thing to stars I could find, anyhow. They also symbolize love and patience. Daffodils symbolize rebirth— and I think you gave that to me. A chance to be born again, even in the same lifetime. Lilies represent devotion and humility, because you’ve humbled me and made me want to give my all to you.”

“And hydrangeas?” Hongjoong feels tears clouding his vision, making it hard for him to see Seonghwa through the distorted gloss. He wants to hold it together— to hold it down until the end, but he’s so _grateful._

He wishes he knew sooner, that he’d love Seonghwa this hard. But maybe he’s always known.

“They’re a thank you,” Seonghwa smiles at him, caressing one of Hongjoong’s cheek and catching a falling tear that’s managed to escape. “They mean ‘thank you for understanding me.’”

“ _Seonghwa_ ,” Hongjoong sobs. “ _Fuck_ , I love you, I love you, I love you-”

“I _know_ ,” Seonghwa giggles, pulling Hongjoong into his suit and not caring about the way it’s beginning to soak with tears. “I love you too.”

“Thank you for being with me,” Hongjoong sniffles. “Thank you for being mine.”

“Thank you for having me, always.”

In the rays of the sun, their rings shine.

>>>>

“I didn’t know when I met you, that I was going to be so...enraptured.” Hongjoong says it gently, whispering into the nighttime air on the porch of their house. He twists the ring on his finger around and around in circles, letting it spin on the axis like a flattened earth. In a way, it sort of is his world. It symbolizes his bond to it, anyhow. 

“Me neither,” Seonghwa laughs. “If I had even the slightest clue, I probably would have thrown a massive temper tantrum. God...can you believe the way I used to be? Always running and hiding and hurting people...how was I even capable of that?”

“I know, the you of now feels bad for even swatting a fly,” Hongjoong snorts. “But maybe that’s just the course of life, isn't it? Always growing...always learning…”

“We’ve only been married for five years,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes fondly. “Don’t go getting old on me now.”

“I’ve _been_ getting old, fuck off.” But there’s no bite in his voice, as he drops his forehead against Seonghwa’s shoulder blade. The other makes a noise in between a huff and a giggle.

“Yes, yes grandpa. Wanna go to the backyard so we can stargaze on the grass?” Seonghwa draws circles on Hongjoong’s arm, finger drifting downwards to twist the ring with his own hands. Hongjoong lets him, marveling at the way the gold contrasts with their paler tones. Years have made Seonghwa’s hands no less slender— no less gentle, either. As time goes by he gets even better. Underneath it all he’s still the same Seonghwa Hongjoong found with guarded eyes and a heart that was a jewel beneath layers and layers of coal. He wasn’t a project for Hongjoong to fix, but he was someone that with the right amount of love, with the right amount of care, could be coaxed out of his shell. The Seonghwa Hongjoong has always seen crystal clear, even when everyone else— even Seonghwa, was sure he didn't exist.

“Let’s go to the balcony instead,” Hongjoong smiles at him. “Wanna be closer to the stars.”

Seonghwa smiles at him like he’s got a secret— one that they both know but will never say out loud. “Don't I already have one right here?”

Hongjoong smiles at him; _beautiful, beautiful, beautiful_. “Cheesy, Mr. perfect words.”

“Well deserved, pretty starboy.”

Hongjoong might not have known, back then. Maybe subconsciously, even, he’d never known. But he doesn’t mind it one bit. He doesn’t have to know it all. He doesn’t have to be perfect, the same way Seonghwa doesn’t have to be strong. They don’t have to know how to act all the time, or how to be invincible. They don’t even have to know what’s in front of them or around the corner.

Because it’s not about what you know. Because they both understand that they’ll never know everything. But Hongjoong knows Seonghwa, and Seonghwa knows Hongjoong. They’ve both found each other in a world where they’re still learning everything else, and that's—

That's alright. That will always be more than enough for the both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> ANDDDD thats it!! How do y'all feel about the way I ended this series?? Was it enough for you?? Do you want any snippets of them in the future?? LMK in the comments and kudos are always appreciated if you wanna show/spread the love :) 
> 
> If you've got the time, please aid to the current causes and dilemmas in the IRL world. Many of us are just trying to work towards a better world/environment and I think we all deserve that :) Please also take care of yourselves!! I love you so so much!!
> 
> -until next time, nana


End file.
